Category Archives: just silly

Based on the subject of this post, this is a short one. The altitude does not combine well with an active nightlife. Were bars and restaurants busy? Sure, but imbibe with care. The hangover wouldn’t be worth it. Altitude and alcohol are not the best combination.

San Pedro is a jumping off point for tours and trips to see the landscapes of the region – which start during the early morning hours and throughout the daylight hours.

Nightlife consists of travelers going to the ATM…seriously. We quickly learned that you can expect a 30-45 minute wait each time. In this photo, we’re pretty close to the front, after an extended wait. At this point you’re just hoping there’s still cash in the machine by the time you get to swipe your card.

After securing cash and food, heading back to the hotel is up next.

Once you leave the confines of the few streets making up the ‘town,’ there are no streetlights. None. Laugh all you want at the headlamp (my friends did) but this headlamp was a lifesaver (probably literally too) on our walk back to our hotel in the pitch dark.

As I mentioned, I had been warned you’d either love Valparaiso or hate it. Well, Valpo, as it’s lovingly called, was a total win for me. After two nights I loved it and decided to stay longer.

Except when I went to extend my reservation for another two nights at breakfast the next morning, I was told this hostel was booked. So breakfast became quite productive for planning my day and my sleeping arrangements.

First, I had to make a plan to change hostels since the one I was currently in was booked. It happened that there was another traveler who wanted to stay longer as well so one owner of the hostel made a call and two of us were going to transfer to another hostel.

Over breakfast, all the travelers at the table shared our plans for the day. Mine was not really a plan but I wish that I was keen to visit the wine region. In conversation, I found two other travelers who were hoping to do the same.

And, in nearly one fell swoop, I had one owner calling to find two of us another hostel and the other owner was about to plan the day for the three of us.

Three of us asked the other owner to book us on a tour. He told us that’s not how it works; yet, after making just one phone call, he confirmed that we’d be driven out to one of Chile’s most accessible wine regions, the Casablanca Valley, later that morning.

Since this was my first long-haul bus ride, I would reward myself with a <gasp> hotel room for the night.

I figured there would be internet in the bus terminal and I could just check TripAdvisor, find a nice, centrally located hotel that wouldn’t be outrageously priced.

Unfortunately, I don’t have a photo of myself — but here’s the imagery:

I had disembarked an overnight bus a few minutes prior. I am sitting with my rucksack and a daypack at a computer in the bus terminal. I wrote down a few addresses from TripAdvisor’s top reviews and am comparing them to the location on a physical map (you know the kind, they are folded nice and neat but once you undo them, it’s a mess to get back together) trying to determine which hotel’s location was ideal.

I tried to check availability on a few of the sites and because it was a reservation for that evening, the message said ‘contact hotel.’ Without a phone, and hardly in the mood to think about Skyping, I decided on the Azur Real Hotel and tucked the address into my pocket and went to pay for my internet time.

I didn’t have enough small change to pay my total bill so I went to the ATM. Took out large bills and as I soon as they spit out of the machine, I remembered that changing big bills is a feat in itself. Of course when I got back to the counter, the guy didn’t have change. He told me to go and get some. My exhaustion came out front and center.

I handed over all the Argentinian pesos in change that I had, I found a few Uruguayan pesos in my bag and handed them over. I asked him if it was okay. He shrugged and took the coins without protest.

I thanked him profusely and headed to the taxi line. Yes, the taxi line. Hopefully my driver would have change for my paper bills.

If I’m departing from budget travel for a moment, at least I can take a taxi to (what I hoped would be) my hotel.

You haven’t really travelled until you’ve taken on South America…The challenge is deciding where to begin. With so much choice, it’s as though the continent was built for travel; a place that excites, thrills, challenges and infuriates…Brave a white-knuckle bus ride down Peruvian slopes and be astounded by endless Andean vistas…South America, however is not just about breathtaking sights – its stunning soundtrack is sure to leave your feet a-tapping long after you’re back in the day job…Argentine folklórica (folk music) trickles out of truck radios in the pampas and the jolting rhythm of cumbia making those Andean bus rides even more absurd.

However, when it comes to experiencing this incredible land the real reward is undoubtably the South American spirit. The entire continent approaches life with the enthusiasm of an old-fashioned road trip: windows down and stereo blaring. South America is a continent that engulfs you and changes you – your state of mind, your outlook on life. As soon as you step foot on South American soil, the transformation begins.

— Lonely Planet South America on a Shoestring

I love guidebooks. They are my souvenirs and my notebooks. I have folded over pages and I have made notes on the white space as I learn information about a place while I’m on the go.

I have a shelf in my bookcase with guidebooks from all of my travels — starting with a Let’s Go Europe: 2000, Lonely Planet Switzerland, Fodor’s New Orleans, Lonely Planet Costa Rica, Frommer’s and a Lonely Planet both from Italy, Lonely Planet Croatia, Lonely Planet Argentina and more.

I was hopingto put my Lonely Planet South America on a Shoestring back on my bookcase.

It took less than a week carrying around my book to decide that the book would need to come apart.

This guidebook would not make it home in one piece to take it’s earned spot on my bookcase.

I had seen other backpackers do the same and I had to join them. I was carrying around dead weight and pulling out this huge book every time I needed it wasn’t going to work for me. In fact, I wasn’t pulling out the book because it was so cumbersome.

The prospect of ripping my book apart broke my heart, although, temporarily. It was adding to the load I was carrying on my back but I didn’t want the book to go to waste.

There was so much information on these crisp, brand new pages and so many places to explore! My friend Romina was preparing for another trip to Brazil, which was the biggest section of the book, and which was not a destination for this particular trip. Romina told me that reading the pages of the other sections would also help her practice her English (which was already superb). Knowing that the remaining part of my book would go to a good home lessened the blow.

I took a deep breath, ready to deface a book. I pulled out the pages for Argentina, Chile, Bolivia, Peru and Ecuador. Romina gave me five paperclips to put together my new, and lighter, ‘guidebooks.’

And I left Romina the rest of the guidebook, still pretty much intact, for her use.

In the morning, I talked with the hostel owner. I told him what kind of beach town I was looking for and it wasn’t Punta. Not for this trip anyway.

He suggested La Pedrera and Cabo Polonia. Each were a few hours to the east and the buses would take me along the southern coast of Uruguay, which I had originally planned on seeing anyway.

The owner gave me some bus schedules for the afternoon, and as I wasn’t going to waste the afternoon on a bus, I would head into town, and to the beach on a Saturday in January! He called me a cab and I went to the bus station. I found the bus company he had found the schedule for, bought my ticket to La Pedrera later that day and I checked my rucksack at left luggage.

So it was me and my daypack off to explore, lay on the beach and dip my toes in the Atlantic!

I hadn’t even made it out of the bus terminal and the man behind the counter who had just given me my left luggage ticket was running after me.

He was speaking very quickly and gestured for me to come back to the counter with him. As I had just dropped my bag and not knowing exactly what he was saying, I followed. As we returned to the counter, I understood why.

But I didn’t know what I had packed that would be making such a noise. My mind racing, I was scrambling to figure it out.

Title translation: Spending a Friday night in the Summer in the Supermarket.

The bus pulled into the terminal at Punta del Este late afternoon. I had booked a hostel before I left Colonia and took a taxi from the terminal to the hostel.

I checked into a room with three bunks and a single bed. I looked around and saw bags everywhere. I took the last bed, which basically meant, I dropped my bag next to said bed.

No one was at the hostel aside from the owners and I had a few hours left of daylight and headed out. The supermarket was on my list and I figured I’d make my way there.

Supermarkets always provide me with entertainment. I actually underestimated how much entertainment.

It was just before 6 on a Friday night, in a beach town, in the summer.

It was the biggest chain in town and the supermarket was packed with South Americans on vacation. Remember, Punta is only a few hours from Montevideo so plenty of people were down for the weekend. Dinner wouldn’t start for at least five hours, so they could very well be getting the essentials for dinner later that night, as well as stocking up for the weekend.

I did a fair amount of looking in people’s carts. Various meats, snacks and alcohol overflowed the carts. Not so different from supermarkets at the Jersey shore on a summer weekend, right?

As for me, I wasn’t picking up steaks for the night. I knew I was heading to more basic towns after this one, so I wanted to wander to see if I needed anything I hadn’t already thought of. And dinner. I wanted to grab something to bring back to the hostel for dinner.

And this is where I discovered drinkable yogurt. I know they have it in the States but something just tasted different. It was actually good.

The title of this is much more interesting than the story behind this post.

As I explored Colonia on my first day in town, I saw this car at least five times. I don’t know if it was the same car, or if there are many, but it kept popping up all day and finally I just took a photo.

I’m not sure why but this photo makes me smile and I just wanted to share.